A/N Hullo. Characters aren't mine, per usual, but there's a fetching lad at a restaurant I go to who is, at this point, the image of James Kirk. Aren't I lucky? Enjoy!
The weight of Vulcan sat heavily on his shoulders, though he was strong, and did not let it show.
On the anniversary of the planet's destruction—his planet's destruction—Spock found himself wandering the desolate outskirts of an obscure town in Earth's American Midwest. The stars twinkled brightly from the heavens, revealing themselves more openly in the unblemished night sky.
There was a spark missing, and Spock resisted the surge of pain in his breast.
Logically, he should be with his father, on New Vulcan. The crew of the Enterprise had been given leave, and most had returned home. Even the Captain had made his way back to a place of refuge, stating that while the Enterprise was his home and his lady, there were necessary matters he had to attend to.
Now, dressed as a civilian and wandering aimlessly, Spock wondered if there hadn't been matters he should have attended to that he desperately ignored.
He glanced at the sky again, and winced, despite himself.
There was no one with him, so logically there was no need to hide his pain.
Spock was a mess of walls and shields, however, and even now he spared the night sky a glimpse of his hurt.
He could not sleep, so he wandered on, drifting far from the town and further into the dust.
XXX
James Tiberius Kirk lay in the midst of a field, alone, cradling a bottle of Jack Daniels.
The anniversary of Vulcan's destruction left him cold and hopeless. He took another sip from the bottle, the sting of the alcohol warming him, but only slightly.
The planet hadn't been his home, of course, but it didn't matter. Jim had seen worlds of destruction and pain in his lifetime, and now he lay on a bed of bones, weighed down by all the death that he had been witness to.
It hurt. He took another drink.
Idly, he wondered where Spock was. His First Officer had looked almost lost departing from the Enterprise, staring into the masses of people like they would bite him.
They didn't. Jim made sure of that when he took Spock's elbow and guided him carefully towards a transport station.
Spock hadn't said a word, and had disappeared shortly after.
It was about that time that Jim found a bottle and started to drink.
He hated being away from the ship, he hated lying about fictional obligations, and he hated watching Spock leave.
His heart twanged, but he ignored it, taking another too long sip and letting his limbs slump into the grass.
XXX
Spock heard the angry sighing a moment before he walked over his Captain, lying haphazardly in the dirt.
XXX
"Captain?" The steady voice of his First Officer drifted into Kirk's consciousness, and he glanced upward. Spock stared down at him, the closest thing he allowed himself to shock playing across his face.
"Spock." Jim said simply. "Sit down."
Without a word, the Vulcan did as he was told.
"What are you doing here?" Spock asked, looking suspiciously at the bottle in Jim's hand.
"I live here." Kirk replied, following Spock's gaze and taking another long sip. "So really, I should be asking you."
"I—I was walking." Spock hesitated, turning away. "I have procured residence within the area and felt the need to examine it more carefully."
"Sure you did." Jim snorted, sipping again. "You need to work on your lies, Spock."
"Vulcans cannot lie." Spock replied stiffly. Jim glanced at him sharply, before grunting and passing the bottle his way.
Spock eyed the half-empty container carefully. "We can also not become inebriate in the way of Humans." He said slowly.
"Don't care." Jim said. "Drink up."
A beat passed, and then Spock pressed the bottle to his lips, taking a sip. His lip curled back, and he returned the bottle to Jim without a word.
The Captain laughed. "I know." He said. "It's not the best, but it's all I've got."
"It leaves much to be desired." Spock replied.
Jim snorted again, lips lingering over the bottle.
They sat in silence for a long while, staring into the sky as Jim savored the bitter liquid.
"This is ridiculous." Jim muttered, watching the sky grow darker. "I mean, how does this even work? Some bastard gets his panties in a knot and decides he's master of the universe? Bastard." He punctuated this with another sip, whining slightly when no liquid came.
Spock paused. "You are referring to Nero." He said.
"Duh." Jim replied. "I'm just so—it's ridiculous! It's not right." He growled, grinding the bottle into the dirt. "I hate him. I hate what he did."
"Hatred is—" Spock waited, staring ponderously into the dark. "I believe I understand your aggressive feelings towards the man, Captain. Hatred, however, is not a feeling I can make myself agree with, regarding these circumstances."
Kirk blinked at him. "Why not?" He asked, voice constricting painfully. "Spock, think about what he did."
"I do." Spock replied. "Every day. And yet, I do not hate him."
"But why?" Jim asked, rolling onto his stomach.
Spock paused once more, weighing his words in his mind.
"Jim," he began. "Hatred is the absolute. It is built from passion, or so I understand. It is all consuming, unforgiving, and painful to bear."
"What Nero felt for my counterpart was hatred." Spock continued. "And I do not wish to associate myself with any feelings he chose to express. He exemplifies why emotion can be misused, and why emotions must be controlled."
Jim allowed himself to remain silent, returning to his back and staring at the sky.
"I still hate him." He murmured. "Makes you a better man than me, Spock."
"Impossible, Captain." Spock replied serenely.
Kirk let out a short laughed and rocked up to his feet, managing a grin.
"Come back to my place." He said, holding out his hand. "I'm sure we've got something to get you high as a kite."
"I do not understand." Spock said, looking cautiously between the hand and the man attached.
"Sure you don't." Kirk said, all too cheerfully. "Come on. It'll be fun."
Spock resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but reached and used the man's forearm to lift himself upward.
"Your definition of 'fun', Captain, is not one many would agree with." He said, releasing his grip.
"You love me anyway." Jim said with a bright smile, turning to walk away through the endless sea of grass.
Spock took another glance into the dark night sky, and allowed himself a sigh, quiet and sweet.
It would be better to face the world together, he reasoned, then to bear the pain alone.
So, he followed his Captain onward, disappearing into the night.